


Classy Girls

by Skyelara



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Minor Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha, Minor Miroku/Sango (InuYasha), Romance, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28989795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyelara/pseuds/Skyelara
Summary: Classy girls don't kiss in bars like this.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha, Miroku/Sango (InuYasha)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Classy Girls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SapphireStarxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireStarxx/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my dear friend! I hope you love this as much as I much as I loved writing it. This is based on the song "Classy Girls" by the Lumineers. Enjoy!

The first thing Miroku noticed about her was her ass.

She leaned against the bar with her elbows, back arched, ass in the air. It was round, plump, and practically begged to be touched. She wore an olive skirt that clung around her hips in just the right ways. Her light pink and magenta blouse was tucked in the skirt and billowed out at the waist. His imagination ran wild as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

The second thing he noticed about her was that she was gorgeous.

She turned her head slightly to the right, raising an arm to try to get the bartender's attention. Her long chestnut hair twirled with the motion. Bangs framed her heart shaped face. Her eyes were painted a shade to match her blouse, making her brown eyes pop. From where Mrioku was sitting, he could see them gleam with impatience. A look of annoyance was plastered on her face, her rosy lips tight in a firm line.

He wanted to know what those lips felt like against his. How she tasted. How his name would look being said upon those plump, tantalizing lips.

As if on autopilot, his legs had carried him over to the crowded bar next to the beautiful stranger. She clicked her tongue and sighed, arm falling to the bar in defeat. She didn't pay Miroku any attention, her beautiful whisky eyes glued to the man tending drinks for a couple of giggling girls on the opposite end of the bar. Miroku dimly thought he could get drunk staring into eyes like hers.

"Man, what does it take to get a drink in this place, huh?"

She snapped her head up at the unexpected sound of his voice, suddenly realizing that another person occupied the space next to her. Her shoulders relaxed and she laughed a soft laugh that tickled his ears. "Right? It's ridiculous. I've been trying to get his attention for the last ten minutes, but apparently you have to be a beautiful blonde to get served."

Miroku hummed in response. "Well, I think he's an idiot. You are the most beautiful woman in this room for sure, blonde hair or not." He watched as a rose color blush bloomed in her cheeks. It complimented her skin, and he found himself wanting to paint her cheeks that lovely color again.

To his surprise, she rolled her eyes. "That may work on every other girl here, but not me. I'm only here to make sure my friend doesn't get murdered."

"How noble of you. Your friend is lucky to have you. If it makes you feel any better, I am only here acting as a wingman for my friend. He's supposed to meet up with this girl he met earlier this week but isn't the most tactful person. I'm here to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid and mess it up."

A smile tugged at her lips as she echoed his earlier words, "How noble of you."

He cleared his throat and extended his arm out in greeting. "I'm Miroku, by the way."

She hesitated for a moment before she gripped his hand back. It was strong. He felt callouses against her otherwise smooth skin. It made him wonder what she did for a living. Did she too feel the sparks from their fleeting touch? "Sango."

"What a lovely name for an even lovelier lady," he said as she rolled her eyes yet again at his flirting. "Well, my dear Sango, let's see if we can't get you a drink, hmm?"

"Good luck," she said with a wistful sigh. "You are neither blonde nor a girl, remember?"

A grin erupted on his face. "Ah, but you left out beautiful."

She gaped at him, a furious red flush creeping up her neck before it settled in her cheeks. "I…I didn't mean…! I mean…oh, shut up!"

He chuckled at her response and couldn't help but think how adorable she was. "I mean, I know I am incredibly charming and handsome. You don't need to say it." He winked at her and laughed harder when he saw her face turn a deeper shade of red. Something tugged at his heartstring as he realized she had thought he was good-looking. Maybe she felt the same magnetic attraction he had felt when he had first laid eyes on her.

Turning his attention to the barkeep, he raised his fingers to his mouth and whistled. A few people jumped at the unexpected sound. He could hear Sango's sharp intake of breath in his ears. He had to stop himself from turning around to see her reaction.

"Bartender, what does it take to get a few drinks around here? You've left this beautiful woman waiting for over ten minutes. That's no way to treat a lady, hmm?"

The bartender shot him a look that clearly said he was displeased at the interruption. He said something to the blondes about how he would be back, and slowly strolled over to them.

Sango lightly hit him on the shoulder, and Mirkou found himself pleased to see her cheeks pink again. "Was that necessary?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

She shook her head, a frown etched on her lips. She stood up straight, as if trying to make herself seem taller. "I'm more than my looks, you know."

"I'd like to know," he said, and it was the truth. He found himself wanting to get to know more about her.

She opened her mouth to retort when the bartender cleared his throat. "If you are done flirting, would you like to order?"

Sango swallowed a riposte at his choice of words and said, "I'll take a whiskey, neat."

Miroku raised an eyebrow at her request before saying, "Make it double."

"What's that look for?" Sango said, cocking a hand on her hip, eyes narrowed. "Are you making fun of my drink order?"

He placed his hands in front of him, like he was surrendering. "No, definitely not. Just amazed, is all."

She cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Amazed?"

"It's not often I meet a girl who drinks whisky at a bar. I pictured you drinking some girly drink. Not that there's anything wrong with that," he quickly amended seeing her eyebrows furrow in a sort of glare.

"Some days I like those 'girly drinks'," she said with a huff, her bangs fluttering at the motion. "But other days I just need a stiff drink."

"Bad day?"

She twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers. "I broke up with my boyfriend earlier this week," she admitted in a timid voice that he found didn't quite suit her. "We were together for a few months. He told me he loved me. I couldn't say it back. I just didn't…feel what I was supposed to feel. I realized that when Kagome, my friend," she added quickly, "met this guy. I was there. It was like an instant connection. I could just see the spark between them. I could practically feel it and recognized that I just didn't have that with him, so I broke it off."

The bartender came back with their drinks, setting them down on two white napkins. Sango wasted no time taking the drink in her hands, downing it in one gulp. Miroku and the bartender stared at her before exchanging glances. Sango slammed the glass down, eyes tight. "Another one, please."

Wordlessly, the barkeep took the empty glass to refill.

"Pretty sure that's not how you drink whisky."

"Pretty sure I don't care."

He snorted into his glass, taking a small sip. He had to admit, he was impressed by the way she downed that drink like it was a shot without making a face. It was like it didn't faze her at all. She was quite the woman.

He told her just that. "You're incredible, Sango."

Her lips twitched a hint of a smile at his comment. "Oh?"

"Absolutely."

She ducked her head as it became a full-fledged smile, trying to hide it, but Miroku caught a glimpse of it anyways. The bartender returned with her second drink, setting it down gently on the bar. He hesitated for a moment as she picked it up, but she merely sipped it instead of taking it whole. The bartender returned to the blonde girls on the other side of the bar.

"What, are you going to drink it normally this time?"

"I can drink my whisky however I want to drink it," she said with mirth dancing in her eyes. "But yes, I am going to slow down or else I won't be able to drive home."

"You could call an uber or a cab."

"I could," she admitted, "but I also want to stay somewhat sober to help Kagome if she needs it."

"Ah, yes, the friend you don't want murdered," he said with a grin. "Where is your friend, anyway? I'm surprised you didn't get a drink for her."

Sango gnawed at her lip, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I'm kind of hiding at the moment."

"Hiding," Miroku repeated, eyebrow quipped up in question.

"Well, yeah. I kind of feel like a third wheel if I am being honest. I don't want to intrude on their date, but I also don't want to leave."

He scanned the room, "Who is your friend with, exactly?"

Sango tapped her chin in thought. "He had long silver hair. What was his name again…?"

"Inuyasha?" Miroku supplied, wondering if the Gods of fate had brought them together.

Sango clasped her hands together, eyes lighting up. "That's it!" Her lips tipped down in a frown. "Wait, how did you know that?"

"Remember how I said I was here as a wingman?"

Sango's eyes widened as she gasped. "No way."

Miroku nodded, leaning against the bar so his body was angled toward hers. "Yes way."

"So, your friend is here with my friend," she said thoughtfully. "I guess that would make us both third wheels on their date?"

"It would look that way," he agreed with a chuckle. "Want to go grab a table and third wheel together?"

Sango glanced up at him, long eyelashes giving her sort of coy look. "I suppose," she drawled, tracing the rim of her glass with a finger, "that would be fine."

"It's a date," he winked before he could stop himself. Miroku put down some cash on the bar to cover both of their drinks. He grabbed her free hand, ignoring her protests, leading the way to an empty table near the back of the room.

"I never agreed to it being a date," she warned, but followed him willingly, grasping his hand tightly.

Miroku couldn't help but think how her hand fit perfectly in his. He wondered what her hands would feel like in other places but shook his head at those thoughts. He could already tell that this girl was different. For once, he didn't want to rush a good thing.

"Sorry, I was being presumptuous," he apologized as they sat down at a round table. "Maybe in the future?"

Sango took a rather large gulp of her whisky, eyes scanning the room. No doubt looking for her friend. "Don't push your luck, Miroku."

He loved the way his name looked upon her lips. The way it sounded against his ears, whispering unspoken promises of a lovely future together. He found himself wanting to push his luck with her.

"I think they're playing pool," he supplied helpfully, gesturing to the opposite side of the room.

Sango followed his glance. "Ah, yes, I see them now. The one at the far right."

Inuyasha was holding a pool stick, scratching his ear as he watched the girl, Kagome Miroku surmised, attempt to shoot. Kagome was pretty, Miroku thought as he watched her completely miss the ball she was aiming for, albeit not as pretty as Sango by his standards. He observed as she stomped her foot, pointing a finger at Inuyasha's chest while he chortled.

Faintly, he could hear her yell, "I would have hit had you taught me how to properly!"

"Oi, don't blame me because you suck," he heard Inuyasha say as he flicked her forehead. "It's not that hard, anyone could do it."

Kagome glared up at him, flustered. "Then show me how to do it again, hot shot."

Inuyasha wrapped his arms around her, guiding the stick and her to the cue ball. He whispered something in her ear and took the shot, sinking the solid red ball in the right corner pocket. Kagome's face matched the color, looking rather pleased with herself.

Miroku turned his attention back to Sango. "Seems like they're getting along just fine."

Sango hummed in response, eyes still locked onto the couple. There was a sort of sadness lingering in the pools of her eyes. Absentmindedly, she brought her whisky up for a sip. The glass loitered against her lips.

"You know, Inuyasha sucks at pool. I'm not even sure why he's trying to show off right now."

She set her drink down, finally turning her attention back to his. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, he sucks ass. He learned all his shots from me."

She giggled into her hand. "I'm sure he did," she quipped as sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"What's something you're really good at that most people aren't?"

"Oof," she said, tracing the napkin lines under her glass. "That's a tough question. I'm not really sure I'm talented at anything."

"I highly doubt that. I can make my tongue turn into a three-leaf clover," he said proudly.

She snorted into the space between them. "I'm sorry? That's supposed to be a talent?"

"Absolutely. Can you do it?"

Her eyes scrunched in concentration as she contorted her tongue into various shapes. Heat curled within him as he surveyed her, wondering how that tongue would feel against his own. How she would taste. Her lips inching down his neck, leaving breathy kisses like tattoos against his skin.

"Am I doing it?" Her voice snapped him out of his reverie.

He rubbed his hand against the nape of neck. "Not even close," he said with amusement, "but nice try. This is how you do it." He formed his tongue into roll and then pulled back into the shape.

She gasped, staring at him with bewilderment. "How did you do that?"

He shrugged, leaning back into the chair. "Genetics. Apparently only 14% of the population can do it."

She eyed him skeptically. "Did you make that up?"

"No, I looked it up because I was curious. I am rare, evidently."

Sango cupped her cheek in her hand as she leaned on the table, searching his eyes as if wondering just how rare he was. Finally, she said, "I am really good with boomerangs."

"Excuse me?"

"It's a weird talent I discovered one day when playing with my younger brother," she said, a reminiscent smile pulling her lips upward. "I am really good at throwing boomerangs and getting them to land where I want."

"That is a weird talent," he agreed.

"No weirder than you making shapes with your tongue," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'll have you know," he said, leaning forward to close the space between them, "no one has ever complained about my tongue movement before."

Her eyes widened at his comment before she rolled them, sinking back in her chair with a laugh. "Hard to hear complaints if no one has experienced it before."

He grinned at her, liking this girl more by the second. Normally that kind of talk would have earned him a slap or had the girl falling into his lap to try to prove him wrong, but failing, of course. "Alright, Miss Sassy."

"Where's the coolest place you've ever been?" Sango asked, finishing her second glass of whisky.

Miroku also took a sip, pondering. "I've never left the country before," he said. "My dad used to bring me to the shore each summer before he died. There was a mailbox hidden away, where you could leave letters and notes for strangers to read. Or maybe for your future self, I don't know. But we would leave notes for ourselves each year. We would read strangers notes and comment on their wishes or lost loves. It was like a time machine. I haven't been back since he died. I'm not even sure if it's still there."

He jumped slightly when he felt Sango's hands entwine in his. Sincerity settled in her eyes as she said, "I'm sorry for your loss. I bet it's still there, and other strangers are glimpsing at your life while writing notes about theirs. I wish I had something like that to look back on. My dad died, too, when I was a teenager."

"Well, I was hoping we would have more in common than two dead dads," he tried to joke, but realized how flat it sounded. "Sorry, that didn't come out right."

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. Miroku found it comforting and wanted her to keep her hand there. It just seemed right. "It's okay, I know what you mean."

He cleared his throat as if to disperse the awkwardness he felt. "So, what about you? Coolest place you've ever been?"

She pursed her lips in consideration. "I don't know, I don't think I can beat a mailbox on a beach," she joked, withdrawing her fingers to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ears. He found himself missing the warmth she possessed. "I traveled a lot when I was younger, mostly to Europe. I think my favorite place was the Louvre in Paris. I am an artist, so to see all those famous paintings was remarkable. I could have spent weeks in there, watching, studying…the things I could have learned," she sighed regretfully. "But alas, it was only for an afternoon and I had to make do. I would love to go back, one day."

"What's your medium?"

"Sculpture work, mostly," she said with a demure smile. "Though I do enjoy painting occasionally."

"I don't think I could draw even a stick figure," Miroku said, "but I do admire artists and how they can create anything out of nothing. I'd love to see your work sometime."

"Maybe," she said ambiguously. Sango paused, head tilting as if listening for something. "Oh, I love this song."

Miroku stood up from his spot at the table, earning a surprised glance from his companion. He held out his hand to hers. "Dance with me?"

She gave him an incredulous stare. "Here? It's a fast song. No one else is dancing. We are in a bar," she listed off excuses.

"So?"

"I'm not a very good dancer."

"I can teach you," Miroku said with a patient smile. "It's not that hard. Besides, I lead, and you follow."

Sango bit her lip, glancing around the room before settling on his deep iris-colored eyes. "Okay," she nodded before placing her hands in his and standing. "What are we going to do?"

He pulled her to his chest. The movement elicited a sharp intake of breath from her plump lips. Hand rested on her lower back, he had to remind himself to behave because her being this close to him just did things to his body. His other hand gripped hers loosely. She laid her hand on his chest, and he hoped she couldn't feel how his heart began to pound beneath it from their close proximity.

"Dance, of course," he supplied, swaying her back and forth while they twirled around in a circle. "I'd love to teach you some finer dance moves in the future, but this will have to do for now with how crowded it is in here."

"Do you dance with ladies quite often, then?" she asked, tilting her head up so she could look him in the eyes with a coy glance.

He searched them, wondering if that was jealously that he saw in her longing gaze. "Not any as beautiful as you," he said, spinning her away from him before pulling her closer to his body. She inhaled a shaky breath at their contact, the tip of her ears pink as he whispered against it, "And none I should like as much, either."

"You don't even know me," she murmured as the song changed, but they remained swaying to their own beat, like the world around them didn't exist. "How can you say such things?"

"I know enough," Miroku said, fingers dancing along her back, "and I find myself wanting to know more."

She leaned her head against his cheek, humming along to the music. Miroku thought he could stay like this for forever, with her in his arms. It just felt right. Comfortable, even. He imagined her heartbeat synching with his as everything around them seemed to fade into the background. She chanced a glance up at him, and he returned it with thirsty eyes, drinking up her appearance. His gaze fell to her soft lips. They were parted, open for invitation.

Something drew him closer to those lips, like the pull of the tide. He felt her hot breath upon his. He faintly wondered if she tasted like the whisky they had drank together earlier. He couldn't wait to find out.

Eyes fluttering close, he leaned in to close the gap between them. However, he met her forehead instead of her mouth. Confused, he pulled away. She dared to look at his eyes, remorse pulling her lips upward into a smile.

"Why?"

"It's nothing that you're doing wrong. It's just what it is. Classy girls don't kiss in bars like this," Sango replied as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Faint traces of pink colored her cheeks. Perhaps she was being truthful.

He sighed, taking a step back to release them from their embrace. "You are a classy girl, my dear Sango. I understand, although I can't say I'm not disappointed. I've been dying to kiss you all evening."

"Have you now?" she asked, her mouth ascending into a grin. "I had no idea."

"You toy with me."

"I had a wonderful night being a third wheel with you, Miroku," she affirmed, clasping his hands in hers. He felt something against his skin that he couldn't quite place. The sincerity in her tone rattled his bones. "I don't know if you noticed, but the crowd is thinning, and I think it's time for me to drag my friend home before she does something stupid."

"Before your friend does something stupid, or you do?"

"Both," she quipped, squeezing his hands with gentle earnestness. "I'll see you around, Miroku."

As quickly as she had come into his life, she left. She ducked her head, escaping to the billiards area to grab Kagome and make a swift exit before he could as much as call out to her. He could faintly year Inuyasha curse, "Oi, what the hell?" He hated to see her leave but couldn't help but love watching the way her rear swayed as she retreated to the cool autumn air outside.

What a woman.

Dimly, he realized there was something in hand. He looked down, seeing the paper napkin with trace remains of whisky in a round circle where the glass had left an imprint. In that circle he saw digits that he surmised was Sango's number. Eagerly, he grabbed his cell phone and entered her number, not even waiting to send her a text.

_Sango? ___

____

____

Her response was almost immediate.

**Yes? ******

********

********

_How about that date? ___

____

____

**Goodnight, Miroku <3 ******

********

********

He could hardly contain the grin that erupted on his face. The hardest part was through.


End file.
